You cry... you learn...
"I did it..." she thinks to herself as she remembers the shouting, the hits she got, the begging for mercy and the thud of the blow that took that bastard's life..."I did it... I killed my father..."
For years she took all the abuse from him the best she could... she remembers how as a child she used to cry herself to sleep, the shouts coming from the kitchen... her mother crying with a black eye in the bathroom floor in the middle of the night, sometimes a trickle of blood running down from her lip...
"Enough!" she thought that night... She planned the whole thing. How she'd wait for him in his apartment, how she'd confront him the second he waltzed it and how she would kill him and dispose of the body afterwards...
Stab him... shoot him... slit his throat... Too messy... too much noise... Maybe she didn't have to kill him... maybe she could just give him a scare and drive him out of her life for good... No... this has to stop tonight! But she just HAD to get him out of her life and out of everyone else's...
8:30... he'll be home soon... She left her one bedroom and poorly kept apartment with a golf club in her hand. I think this'll do the trick... It was supposed to be quick... Wait for him: Why the fuck did you do that to me??? To mom??? Face him, tell him how the wounds would never heal until she did what she went there to do... Get rid of the son of a bitch... for good.
It was all going according to plan... she got there at around 9:10 in the night... Apartment 12B on the Astoria Heights Apartment Building, or as she called it the shithole where the bastard lives...
She was sitting in the dark when, around 9:30, someone came in... as she saw the black shape of the man that hurt her so much when she was a child, she was filled with rage, anger, and an insatiable need to just get it over with without doing anything else... the man never knew what hit him... he was gone after the first blow of the golf club to the back of his head... she kept on hitting him until her palms started bleeding and her arms were sore with exhaustion...
Then she left...
I did it... I killed the bastard...
The next day began as any other day... she woke up, turned on her cellphone, went to get the coffee started and it was off to take a shower for a long day at work...
She was getting dressed when she heard it... "Local police officers found a man beaten to death at the Astoria Heights Apartment Building..." This is it... my fifteen minutes of fame! "The man has been identified as George Berkley and he was the superintendent of the building... he went to check the apartment where he was found after one of the tennants called him and told him she smelled gas coming from the apartment next door" Wait a minute... the bastard's name wasn't George... and I'm sure as hell I'm NOT a Berkley... Shit!
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10:53 PM
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